Quidditch Tryouts
by Atana
Summary: It's hard enough for young Severus Snape to deal with Quidditch tryouts - let alone when Peter Pettigrew hexes your broom! A Snips and Spirals story.


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Snips and Spirals Fanfic:  
  
"Quidditch Tryouts - Take One"  
  
Text by Lady Tesser  
  
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DISCLAIMER: I blame it on Snips and Spirals - everyone else does. (Spirals: Oh, sure, just because we were caught with the can of Cheez-Whiz.) (Snips: They can't prove it was us. It could have been anybody who looked like us. Could they spot us in a parade? I don't think so.)  
  
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Britomartis Vox's second week of school at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was slightly better than the first week. She was now used to the odd scheduling of Professor Sinistra's midnight astronomy class, Professor McGonagall's strict policies regarding tardiness, and Rubeus Hagrid being only half-giant (in a land that had once hosted Titans for Bull Leaping Games, Martis was surprised to see anyone of his lineage this far north).  
  
Her friendship with the outcast Severus Snape (Third-Year) - known to his housemates as 'Snips' - suited her just fine. He was a loner like she was and did not demand anything out of her save for talk and a prank companion. She liked him even though he was surly and sulky at times and yelled at her to stop mothering him. He reminded her a lot of herself in little ways, especially the ways they hid their eyes from people.  
  
Sev was seated next to her, in fact, during breakfast. They always had meals together now, trapped at the end of their Slytherin House table and left alone for the most part save for Martis' roommates who usually dropped in their two sickles of opinions.  
  
He picked at his food, his greasy black hair curtaining his face and his tie slightly askew. She leaned close and sniffed. "You still have potions on your robe."  
  
"I don't have a spare robe," he informed her. "I have to wait until our day off to send it to the house-elves to wash."  
  
"Why don't you owl your parents to buy you a new one?"  
  
"We just don't do that, Spirals."  
  
"Why?"  
  
He looked up at her, one dark eye appearing from between strands of hair. "I just can't. Don't ask." He shoved his plate away. "I need to get ready for Quidditch Tryouts."  
  
Martis perked up. "Quidditch? I've never seen a game but I've read about it. Hogwarts has a Quidditch team?"  
  
"All the houses have their own teams," he informed her. "I'm going to try out for our House team as a Chaser."  
  
Martis grinned. "That'd be neat! I should be starting my first broom lessons today."  
  
Sev wiped his mouth with a napkin. "Madame Hooch teaches flying - don't let her scare you, she feeds on that. And concentrate on what you're doing."  
  
She nodded. "When are the tryouts? I want to cheer you on."  
  
He gazed at her like she had two heads. "Why?"  
  
"We're friends - friends do that sort of thing for each other."  
  
"All right. After the last classes, at the Quidditch pitch." He straightened his tie slightly, making it a little more off. Martis reached over and pulled it up, lining up the stripes of the knot and length. "Spirals, I can dress myself!"  
  
"Just barely."  
  
"Stop mothering me, I'm thirteen-years-old!"  
  
"My oldest sister Xenia says thirteen-year-old boys need mothers the most."  
  
Behind his hair, Sev turned bright red. "Britomartis, stop this at once."  
  
She released his tie and blinked. "Sorry, reflex."  
  
Oriana Crescent - one of Martis' roommates - chose that moment to lean over and comment, "Oh, get it over with and get married already!"  
  
Martis tossed Medusa at the girl who broke into screams of terror. "Ignore her, Snips, she's a hadron-head."  
  
Sev's lips threatened to break into a smile. "What's a hadron-head?"  
  
"Someone who has only one extremely-slow subatomic particle in their skull and nothing else." The bell for nine o'clock classes rang and she went to retrieve Medusa. "Time for school. See you at lunch, Snips."  
  
"See you later, Spirals."  
  
* * *  
  
Severus Snape was distracted all day. This would be his first time trying out for Quidditch and he was rightly nervous. His mastery of broom flight was passable, just enough for the requirements set forth by Madame Hooch when she came in and revised the tryout procedures about ten years ago. He was confident that he could handle the Quaffle well, considering the amount of times he was able to catch the Marauders throwing things at his head and catching them to throw back.   
  
(Martis had praised him to embarrassment the one time he caught a book thrown at his head by Peter Pettigrew and tossed it back at the rodent - all without looking up from his own reading in the library. It was actually an accident, but Spirals would have none of that.)  
  
But the Rumor Mill was already circulating the gossip that half of the Marauders (Sirius Black and James Potter) were going to also try out for Gryffindor's Quidditch team. And several had hinted at betting pools concerning how far the rivalry between Black and Snape was going to go during tryouts.  
  
It almost made him lose his nerve during Potions class when Black turned around and smirked obscenely at him while mouthing the words, 'Showdown, Snivellus.'  
  
But he promised Martis. And he would go through with it.  
  
* * *  
  
Martis quietly waited with her classmates in the Quad with her broomstick in hand.  
  
She knew she was not part of this group; these were children with more normal childhoods, who were not oddly raised by siblings, whose parents gave them good starts in being normal wizarding children. Admittedly, none of them could handle Priestess training or bull leaping or any of the other childhood traditions of Crete, but she still felt a slight envy toward the others.  
  
There were many nicknames suggested for her due to her unique appearance, even in uniform - 'Shades' due to her sunglasses, 'Rapunzel' due to her knee-length ash blonde hair, and 'Ariadne' by one of the older students who researched Greek mythology and recognized Martis' Crete as the home of the Minotaur myths.  
  
But considering the spiral-themed jewelry ... the spiral-printed cloak and clothing ... the spirals drawn all over her notebooks ...  
  
She had to be called 'Spirals'.  
  
So, Spirals Vox was going on her first flying lesson.  
  
Madame Hooch strode up to the group of students, her robe billowing behind her and her knee-high laced up boots showing off nicely shaped legs. Her short-cropped, fly-away red hair framed a strong square-jawed face and yellow eyes, the same sharp expression held by many lady-teachers of physical education classes.  
  
Martis' hand shot up in the air.  
  
"All right," she proclaimed in a loud and firm voice. "We're going to learn to fly today - what is it, Miss Vox?"  
  
Martis pulled her hand down. "I LOVE your boots, ma'am!"  
  
Several of the other students giggled while the boys nodded in agreement. Madame Hooch cleared her throat. "Thank you, but we have a class." She turned to the students in general. "Place your broom besides you on the ground ... hold your hand over it ... then firmly say 'Up'!"  
  
Martis did so, her broom shooting up into her hand.  
  
Peony Danderfluff (a Martis roommate) ended up knocking her broom into her face. Oriana Crescent and Akiko Mori giggled.   
  
"Shut up you!"  
  
"Say it like you mean it!" Madame Hooch instructed. "It's the only way to get the broom to respect you!"  
  
"Up!"   
  
Brooms finally reached up into their owners' hands.  
  
"Now," Madame Hooch continued. "Get on your brooms ... " She waited for the students to sit astride the broomsticks. "When I blow the whistle, you will kick off the ground and hover a few feet in the air."  
  
The whistle blew.  
  
Martis kicked off, feeling herself being lifted. "Not bad. Not as limiting as a flying carpet, either."  
  
"You have flying carpets on Crete?" Akiko asked conversationally. "I didn't think they reached that far west."  
  
"Edge of the eastern routes." She casually rolled over and hung upsidedown from her broom, her hair brushing the ground. "I wonder if ancient wizards cooked meat over a fire like this?"  
  
Her classmates giggled.  
  
"Miss Vox - !" Madame Hooch yelled.  
  
"Sorry, ma'am." She spun around on her broom and sat back up straight, adjusting her sunglasses.  
  
The instructor raised an eyebrow. "Now, we're going to begin basics."  
  
* * *  
  
When class was over, Madame Hooch stopped Martis on her way back into the building. "Miss Vox, may I speak with you?"  
  
Martis nodded, following her flying teacher to the opposite side of the Quad and across the walkways toward the Quidditch pitch.  
  
"Madame Hooch?"  
  
She looked down at the girl. "What do you know about Quidditch?"  
  
"I've read 'Quidditch Through the Ages' ... never saw a game though."  
  
"Pity," Hooch commented. "I was hoping you had some amateur experience; you have a wonderful sense of balance on a broom from what I saw."  
  
"Well, that was from flying horses," Martis explained. "Takes balance to ride a regular horse, but it takes balance and talent to ride winged-horses in the air."  
  
"What type?"  
  
"Abraxan, mostly. Although Granians are best."  
  
"Agreed." She paused, staring at the stands around the pitch. "I know your House Master does not allow females on the Slytherin Quidditch team, but I want to train you."  
  
Martis giggled. "For what?"  
  
"Beater."  
  
Martis now laughed. "From what I understand, not a very popular position for a female to begin with."  
  
"Yes, but from what I understand, that shouldn't stand in your way. I'm a good judge of physical form - you have the strength to knock off a Bludger, and with your balance, that'll make you an excellent Beater." She ran a gloved hand over her forehead. "It's a bit late to get you into tryouts for this year, but I should have you ready by next year - if you want to do it."  
  
Martis shrugged. "I don't know yet. I want to see a few games first before I decide."  
  
"First games start in November - if you decide to take training, I'll be ready to teach you at the beginning of the new year then." She patted Martis' back. "I think you have excellent potential and enough talent to make Penderdandis accept you on the Slytherin team."  
  
Martis shrugged. "It sounds like fun, but I'll wait."  
  
Hooch grinned. "You know where to find me."  
  
Martis wandered back to the school and thought about Sev trying to join the Slytherin team. She wondered if Madame Hooch had taken him aside and told him he had potential. Or if he just decided to try out on his own to prove he could do it.  
  
She shook her head. She had been around Slytherin too long; she was beginning to see conspiracy in everything.  
  
* * *  
  
Sev nervously shuffled in his spot in the line of students trying out for Quidditch.  
  
The armor and padding were borrowed from his roommate Evan Ryper, which still fit a few sizes too big, but nonetheless were properly secured to his thin frame. He held his broom, an older model of a Shooting Star which showed its age compared to the Nimbus 1000's around him. Surrounded by what Martis called 'jocks', he had nothing to say to anyone and so allowed his hair to fall in his face.  
  
Actually, the main reason for this was the fact that across from him were Sirius Black and James Potter, leering at him and pointing and laughing.  
  
This was a bad idea. He should go back into the background and fade into the walls again, never to be seen, always in the shadows.  
  
But then there was Martis sitting in the stands a few dozen yards away, her sunglasses glaring in the light and her long ash blonde hair spread around her. She was there for him. No one else cared, but she was there to give her support to him and only him.  
  
He was not going to have this be waste of time for her.  
  
"Good afternoon," Madame Hooch called as she entered the pitch. "I trust you're all set for tryouts. All those trying out should have left your wands in your dorms - there will be no wand-waving or silly incantations during Quidditch playing, this game relies solely on your ability and skills. Your House Masters are watching, so they have final say on who's on your House teams. We're going to start with some flying warm-ups around the field, then we'll go into looking at the Chasers first. Ready for warm-ups - go!" She blew her whistle.  
  
The students got on their brooms and took off -  
  
Except Sev, who got thrown from his as soon as he kicked off the ground.  
  
The other students trying out chortled around him as he pulled his hair aside to glare at the smirking Black and Potter who zoomed over him and screeched, "Poor Snivellus - can't even ride a broom!"  
  
Sev grabbed his broom and mounted it again, this time making it ten feet in the air before being dumped headfirst toward the ground. He covered his head and rolled into a ball before he hit the grassy pitch and somersaulted a few times, landing on his backend.  
  
The laughter grew louder. He looked back to see various members of different houses laughing at him, making his face grow redder and his head to swim in anger and humiliation.  
  
Martis was standing up, her wand drawn, then she marched over to a group of Gryffindor students, her brows knotted low over her sunglasses frames. With a shout of "EXPELLIARMUS!" Peter Pettigrew's wand was thrown from his hand and the wayward Shooting Star broom dropped to the ground.  
  
Sev snatched his broom and climbed on it once again, this time making it across the pitch at a good clip before being sandwiched between Black and Potter who rammed against his sides hard enough to squeeze the air out of him and disorient him.  
  
"Happy landings, Snivelly!" Potter crowed as he and Black high-fived each other and took off.  
  
Sev crashed to the ground and Martis was immediately out on the field, picking his head up gently. "Snips? Snips! Are you all right?"  
  
"Owwww, my head hurts."  
  
She lowered his head down again as Madame Hooch raced up to them. "What's wrong?"  
  
"I think he has a concussion," Martis answered.  
  
"Hagrid's coming out to help - "  
  
"Right here," Hagrid said. "Anything broken?"  
  
"Concussion, we think, be gentle with him."  
  
Sev flinched amid his daze as the large man gently picked him up and carried him off the field. Martis trotted behind them, pausing only long enough to turn around and make an offensive hand gesture toward the giggling Marauders. They returned it in kind; the last Martis heard was them getting yelled at by Professor McGonagall for being uncouth.  
  
* * *  
  
"Snips!" Martis was saying.  
  
"Leave me alone!" he snarled as he slammed the school building door behind him and in her face.  
  
She pushed it open and added, "What is the matter??"  
  
He kept his back turned to her, his head wrapped in a wide white bandage which pressed his hair to his head, while he climbed up a spiral staircase. "I don't want to talk to you!"  
  
"Well I'm not leaving you alone," she retorted as she dashed up the stairs after him.  
  
"Yes, you are! Go back to the dorms, I don't want to see anyone!"  
  
"Pig's spit! I'm not leaving you alone when you're like this, that's for damn sure!"  
  
He sprinted up the stairs, bouncing against the walls as his vision blurred. "No," he gasped. "Leave me alone, Britomartis. I can't face anyone. Go away."  
  
"No," she insisted, climbing up after him. "Wherever you go, I go. You can't drop me like this whenever it gets bad."  
  
He ducked into a cubbyhole, vanishing from sight. Martis peered at the opening, then leaned her head inside to see a small round room. She crawled in and absently noted the plain stonework around them capped by a brilliantly decorated pointed-ceiling made of stained-glass. The sun was setting, making the colors glow brightly above their heads.  
  
Martis slipped across the floor and sat next to Sev; his knees were drawn up to his chin and his bandaged forehead was resting on his knees. His sweater, shirt, and trousers were still too short and the edges frayed slightly with age.  
  
"Go away," he sobbed. "You know I'm a weakling and a baby, don't make it harder."  
  
Her arms were quickly around him, holding him tightly. His arms were just as suddenly around her, squeezing her and his tears soaking her sweater.  
  
"I tried," he wept. "I tried, I tried. I can't do anything right. I'm a useless klutz. I can't even fly a broom right without trying to kill myself - "  
  
"Snips, Rat-Boy was hexing your broom; and since it was an older Shooting Star model, it wasn't too hard to do. Those things fall apart after so many years. It wasn't your fault."  
  
"Why me then?" he demanded.  
  
"I don't know, they're just creeps." She rubbed his back hard, her other hand stroking his hair. "Snips, that's no reason to push me away. I'm never, ever going to hurt you. I'm the shield at your back - trust me."  
  
"I do," he whispered. "And I hate it. I had to be rescued by a girl and I can't do anything without you having to defend my back."  
  
Martis gripped him tightly. "In my culture, if a woman can't defend her friends and family, she isn't considered a woman. This is reflex for me - I'm not trying to prove anything to anybody. I'm your friend, and friends are always at each other's back to keep the monsters away from both sides."  
  
"You're just a child."  
  
"And you're a thick-headed lout. You're stuck with me, Severus Snape, and trying to make me leave you is going to be impossible. You need me and I need you."  
  
He broke into fresh sobs, biting her small shoulder. Martis continued to comfort him, her strong arms never releasing his body or allowing him to feel alone.  
  
And yet, she felt darkness within him, darkness she had never known existed. Despite trying to reach into his mind, there was a firm block up between her thoughts and his, carefully crafted to keep out everyone ... possibly even himself.  
  
'Why won't you allow me in?' she thought.  
  
He looked up at her, his dark eyes filled with every sort of fear and pain. He dropped his eyes and replied to her thought, "You won't understand."  
  
"Severus - "  
  
He pulled away, curling up again. "My father beats me."  
  
Martis said nothing, blinking in half-comprehension. He began drumming his fist against his shin.  
  
"He hates my guts. I'm a massive disappointment to him. He delights in beating Mother and me up. Don't blame him - I'm useless and she won't fight back. Good one, huh? You scold Black for picking on girls and children and my own father does the same thing." He looked up at her, his face contorted in anger. "So, go ahead, be sick. Run off. I'm a disgusting sot whose own father hates him. I'm not worth saving or being rescued or whatever. Just ... go away."  
  
Martis reached out and gently touched his face. "Great Mother, Severus, I ... didn't know."  
  
"Why do you think I envied your childhood?" he growled. "You were never bothered by your parents. I would have relished being neglected by my father, left on my own and all. I'm a useless carcass."  
  
"No," she protested, holding him again. "You are not useless. You are brilliant. You - "  
  
"Martis, you're the one who has everything going for you. You're quick, you're compassionate, you're brave, you're beautiful, you've never been enveloped in darkness - "  
  
"But it's pointless without you." She held his face in her hands, making him look into her face. "Severus, you will never get rid of me. Don't even try to push me away. We were supposed to meet and be friends. You keep me sane and grounded."  
  
He smiled sadly. "Funny, I always thought you were keeping me sane."  
  
"You must have kept me sane - I would have turned Narcissa into a roach and stepped on her to shut her up. You're good for me, too, Snips. I intend to be by your side the rest of the time you attend, and I hope you'll be there when I finish my last few years after you graduate."  
  
Sev stared at her, completely stunned by her words. Nobody had ever wanted to be with him or wait for him. And yet here was this eleven-year-old girl stone-secure in knowing that they will be friends for years, even after school. She knew part of his darkness, and she still wanted to be his friend. Eternally.  
  
But could she accept the rest of his darkness, the forced work in the Dark Arts or the real reason he was even born ...  
  
No. And he was not ever going to let her find out.  
  
Only a week. Only a week since she burst into his life and gave him a ... a thread of hope. That thread of hope was all he had, and he was going to take it as long as it was offered.  
  
He pulled her close and drew the sunglasses down her face, staring into her moss green eyes. "All right, it's deal. Snips and Spirals are a package, not to be separated under any circumstances."  
  
"Right," she affirmed, brushing a strand of black hair under his bandage. "It's just you and me - whether against the Marauders or anything else."  
  
Sev paused thoughtfully, then remarked, "The world doesn't have a chance."  
  
"Or at least it'll go down in flames." She kissed between his brows and pushed her sunglasses back up, grinning. "Are you feeling better?"  
  
Sev smiled, holding his hand to his forehead. "Except for the pounding headache, I actually am."  
  
"We can stay up here and wait for it to quiet down." She looked up at the now-muted colors of the stained glass. "Really peaceful up here."  
  
He looked around as well. "Hey, I've never been here before."  
  
Martis raised an eyebrow. "Then why did you go up here?"  
  
"Trying to get away from you. I didn't know this place existed until now." He looked up at the glass as well. "Feels good."  
  
"Yeah." She brushed more of his hair into place. "Snips?"  
  
"Hm?"  
  
"What are we going to do to the Drool-rauders in return?"  
  
Sev squeezed her, looking up at the glass, then replied, "Why, Spirals, what they deserve."  
  
* * *  
  
That evening, the Marauders swore up and down to Gryffindor House Mistress Minerva McGonagall that monsters were flying outside their dorm windows. Upon inspection, McGonagall found nothing and told them to stop wasting her time.  
  
However, the Marauders did not get any sleep due to the tapping on their windows from the giant inflatable sheep demanding to eat their socks.  
  
Snips and Spirals deny having anything to do with the inflatable sheep part.  
  
-End- 


End file.
